


A Different Hogwarts & The Sorcerer's Stone

by Dgcakes (ficsnfun)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsnfun/pseuds/Dgcakes
Summary: Young Harry Potter ends up taken from his horrible home and introduced to a world of magic and wonder Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Meanwhile, a young woman has been working to try and bring reforms to the school and positive change for the wizarding world’s youth. Their paths collide as Hogwarts, and the world itself, are changed because of it.





	1. When The Boy Lived

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This is a completely self-indulgent fic because I have some serious problems with some adults in this series and how things are run. This series is heavily based around an OC and rewritten by how she changes things with her presence and actions. This is entirely for fun on my part, so probably shouldn’t be taken too seriously.
> 
> Sometimes this au uses bits or quotes directly from the books for effect, but I'm going to try not to overdo that.

Miss Gwendolyn Prills, of East Mill Crescent, was probably one of the most ordinary young women in her entire year. She’d been an ordinary averagely skilled child, and she grew into an ordinary and decently skilled adult. If there were a standard by which someone could be called average while still possessing of magic, that was Miss Prills. A very very average witch.

Miss Prills was short, modestly tolerable to look at, and had a rather pudgy figure. She was a friendly sort of person but had very little patience for some of the nastiness of others and was certainly not afraid to show it. Had she been in a more notable field, this tendency to stand her ground could have been dangerous for her but as it stood, it merely left Miss Prills dealing with problem cases at her office that no one else wanted, and far from advancing in position there. When she’d sought the position, it’d been with the idea of helping others and standing up for those who didn’t have a voice, but quickly found that was nowhere near the case.

This all changed on the dull, grey Tuesday our story begins, with news that shot through the wizarding world like ripples after a skipping stone. Miss Prills was dressing for work when an owl arrived. This was a particularly odd occurance as one didn’t exactly see owls by day, at least not so brazenly. During her time at school, there’d been an entire fleet’s worth of owls in every morning but that had been out in the countryside and magically protected, not in the middle of a town so close to muggle homes. The letter the owl carried made things even more odd - a hurriedly scribbled note by her usually perfectionist supervisor to tell her to take the day off, that everyone everywhere had the day off.

The note didn’t actually specify why she had the day off though, so Miss Prills went about her morning routine just the same. It wasn’t until another owl came speeding in as she was having her breakfast that she got any sort of explanation. It was in a second, equally hurried but more clearly excited note by her supervisor’s assistant that the news broke - they had the day off because the wizarding world was in celebration. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had fallen.

It took the rest of the day, a proper meander around town, and a lot of sorting through gossip to get the rest of the details on the matter but eventually Miss Prills had a vague idea of what’d happened, and of all the minor aftermath as well. In the dark evening while others celebrated or discussed the changes in the world to come, she walked through her empty apartment and collapsed on the couch to stare up at the ceiling and just let the weight of things hit her. People she’d grown up with or known were now gone, and all that remained was shreds of the lives and families they’d left behind. Somewhere out there was a baby who had just lost his parents, one of many children just like that. But unlike those other children, this little boy was famous for something he’d probably never even remember.

She let out a heavy sigh of breath, brushing her bangs out of her face and settling down to sleep on her couch. It was all the children out there harmed by the evil in the world that she’d wanted to help when she’d taken up her position at her current job, the ones who most needed an advocate and someone to listen to them and stand up to others. Under the regime things had been under, however, almost all work to try and enact social change or better things was ground to a near standstill. With another heavy sigh, she sank into the lumpy cushions beneath her and tried to close her eyes and properly block everything out.

In another instant, Miss Prills’ eyes shot open and she leapt up to rush over to her desk and fumble about in the dark for a quill. Over the next half an hour she composed two letters, that she stared at after, head in her hands and shaking a bit with the intensity of her thoughts. The first letter was short, formal and to the point - her notice to her employer of leaving. The second letter was more rambling and emotional but deeply personal and meaningful, and probably the most passionate letter she’d ever written in her life. She rolled both up and threw on her cloak again to head out the door, heading to the overnight owl express before she had time to talk herself out of the entire business. Thankfully, with all the celebrations and drinking going on, no one really bothered questioning why she was out and about with thrown on clothes and her hair in disarray to send two letters in the middle of the night. Soon as they were sent the life went out of her and Miss Prills stumbled back to her flat in a daze.

In another part of the country, a cat waited for an important meeting that would end in a small baby sleeping on a stoop with a letter, and people met in secret to toast that very same babe. A man with a strange silver cigarette lighter was out to meet that cat, and when he finished with that meeting and leaving the very important baby to some very unpleasant people, he’d return to his own business. And when that business took him back to his school, he would find a very rambling and only partly coherent note from one of his former students, suggesting something that needed to be done in the wake of the Dark Lord’s fall…and an intriguing prospect would be laid before him.


	2. The Visit from Someone

Ten years had passed since that fateful night and young Harry Potter spent them growing up in a world that didn’t know him and didn’t seem to want him either. The day of his eleventh birthday dawned like any other in his summer holidays. Having to get up early to make breakfast before he’d inevitably have to find a way out of the house before Dudley’s gang arrived to join him for the day and engage in their favorite activity: Harry Hunting.

Harry was hurrying to finish his breakfast and get out of sight as quickly as possible, before his Aunt or Uncle decided to give him any sort of task to delay him for Dudley, when there was a curt rap at the door. The whole family froze and Aunt Petunia looked at Uncle Vernon, aghast. It was very early on a Tuesday morning, and Uncle Vernon hadn’t even finished his newspaper yet so who could be calling? It certainly didn’t sound like one of Dudley’s friends.

“Must be a package to be signed for.” Uncle Vernon said nervously, “Another delivery of something you ordered out of a catalog, Petunia?”

“I haven’t ordered anything recently.” Aunt Petunia shook her head, but she seemed just as flustered as her husband. “Maybe Marge sent something she found on vacation?”

The knock was repeated and Vernon nodded quickly, “Yes, you’re probably right.” he turned quickly back to his newspaper, “Dudley, answer the door and sign for whatever it is so they go away.”

“Make Harry do it.” as went the usual whine from Dudley at being asked to do any sort of chore.

“Answer the door, Harry.”

Wanting to be done with this task as quickly as possible so he could make his escape, Harry stood and strode out to the entranceway. He opened the door, expecting a delivery person but found something entirely different awaiting him.

A respectably dressed young woman waited on the front step with a briefcase. She was short and plump, but wore it more comfortably than either Uncle Vernon or Dudley did, especially with her rosy cheeks and warm smile. She wasn’t much taller than he was and looked almost fondly at him before she spoke.

“Good morning, I’m here to see Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number 4 Privet Drive, is this their residence?”

Harry nodded silently, too stunned to really respond much. There was something about her that reminded him of the other strange folk who sometimes seemed to know him, but there was something slightly more mundane about her than them. Maybe it was the fact she actually spoke to him and seemed to be here on actual business with the Dursleys, instead of just smiling and disappearing as if she’d never been there.

He stepped away from the door, leaving it partly ajar and went to fetch his Aunt and Uncle.

“Well?” Uncle Vernon demanded when Harry re-entered the room, “What was the delivery?”

“It wasn’t a delivery.” he responded, still rather dumbfounded.

“Then what was it?” Aunt Petunia snapped.

“That would be me.” there came the woman’s voice again. She stepped into the kitchen with her proper posture and official appearance and seemed to freeze everything in place just by doing so. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley?” she repeated.

“Who are you supposed to be-” Dudley started but quickly shut up at the look from his parents.

“Excuse me, madam, but we didn’t invite you inside.” Mr. Dursley was doing his best attempt to look polite while also being irritable, and it was resulting in his face turning an odd shade of reddish purple.

The woman smiled, shifting her briefcase to her other hand so she could open it. “I’m Miss Prills, Mr. Dursley, and I’m here in an official capacity. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time but I really wanted to make sure things were dealt with as soon as possible, for your benefit as well as that of our offices.”

That phrasing seemed to at least hold Uncle Vernon’s attention, “And just what things are we talking about?”

“We were tasked to look into some rumors about this family and some allegations against you…” she started, sounding very apologetic about the whole business, face so much softer and more nervous seeming presenting this.

“Rumors? What rumors?” Now it was Aunt Petunia’s turn to sit up straight and take notice. She, who was the biggest busybody among her neighbors, who so very dreaded hearing any sort of whisper against her family, was of course very pertinent to her interests.

“Well I’m afraid, our office has been requested to look into a matter of the abuse and neglect of a minor in the care of this household. Apart from some very nasty rumors circulating, there were anonymous tips regarding acts of physical violence, and a few inquiries about if police action would be required after certain things were witnessed.” Miss Prills said it so apologetically that it might almost seem she didn’t believe it, were there not something very hard in her eyes as she glanced up from her briefcase, holding a thick file of papers.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon exchanged a look, faces both paling quickly. Vernon coughed and stood. “Dudley, Harry, go- please excuse us.” he corrected quickly.

Harry stood and went to head for the door but Miss Prills put out a hand to stop him.

“I’m afraid, since this pertains to Mr. Potter, I can’t actually have him completely dismissed. I will need to speak with him after I perform an inspection of the house as part of the investigation into these allegations.” she seemed sheepish, “I’m afraid some of the allegations include that he sleeps in a cupboard and is locked inside it and denied meals as punishment.”

“Just a moment, where do you get the right to just waltz into our house and demand to inspect it?” Uncle Vernon was scared, and when he got scared, he got angry. His voice was already rising as he spoke.

Miss Prills held up a very official looking document. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Dursley, I’m really only doing my job. I’m required to inquire and investigate these matters, or else the police and public courts will have to get involved. There has already been several incidents that resulted in calls to social services.”

That was enough of a statement to cool Uncle Vernon’s head some. He gulped deeply.

Harry felt a strange sense of almost hope watching the Dursleys sweat like this. Miss Prills walked next to him as they were shown about the house. The Dursleys were doing their best to show how nice and normal their home was, but it was clear that they were waiting for her to ask to see where Harry slept.

In contrast, Miss Prills seemed totally relaxed and kept giving him warm smiles whenever he caught her eye. She was certainly not acting unconfident now - the further through the house they went, the more tense the Dursleys got and the more confidence Miss Prills seemed to show.

When they passed Dudley’s second bedroom, she looked inside with interest, casually remarking, “My, my, such a spacious house. Very charming.” She gave a serene smile when the Dursleys looked back at her and the tour continued.

With every step, the palpable dread from the Dursleys was building and for once, Harry could enjoy the situation . Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia cared so much about what others thought that they punished Harry for anything odd that happened even if he couldn’t have done it and now the thing most visibly strange was their behavior.

The tour ended at last at Harry’s cupboard and Miss Prills just looked at Uncle Vernon to get him to open it. She barely gave it a glance before nodding curtly.

“I think I’ve seen enough. Harry, could you please wait here? I need to have a discussion with your Aunt and Uncle.” Miss Prills spoke kindly to him but her look to the Dursleys was icy.

Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Miss Prills headed into the kitchen and closed the door. Harry debated for a moment if he’d better get to hiding in case Dudley had gathered his gang in this time but his curiosity won out. He crept close to listen at the keyhole to the discussion, peeking through to watch things unfold.

“I have to say, Mr. And Mrs. Dursley, this doesn’t look good for you. Such flagrant neglect and abuse is criminal and the courts don’t look kindly on such clear cut cases - nor does the public, I’m afraid.”

Uncle Vernon looked like he was going to speak till Miss Prills continued.

“Fortunately for you, outside circumstances will allow you to maintain your life and status rather than facing trial… provided certain changes are made.”

At last Uncle Vernon found his voice. “What’s all this? Outside circumstances? What nonsense is this.”

“Yes, you see, certain stipulations were made when you two were granted custody of Harry. The details were not all shared with my office but suffice to say you have special circumstances to do with him that shouldn’t be made public. And as I’ve heard, you’re so very eager to avoid anyone finding out that you take to mistreating him for anything that goes awry.” Her eyes narrowed and she spoke very icily, voice quiet enough Harry could barely make it out. “If you want to maintain your cozy little lives, not publicly revealed and punished as the abusive disgusting creatures you are…you will be following my exact instructions.”

Whatever she listed next, he couldn’t make out but he got a clue by Uncle Vernon’s reaction.

“Absolutely not! We swore when we took him in we’d stamp it out of him.” Uncle Vernon roared.

“That isn’t how these things work. You really would just be delaying the inevitable. The longer he stays here, untrained, the greater the incidents will get. Till everybody knows. And they’ll all associate it with you. The rumors are already there - did I tell you about the ones from the zoo?” Miss Prills was much shorter than Uncle Vernon but something about this tiny round woman was cowing even his temper.

“What do we have to do.” Petunia snapped. She was clearly furious but between whatever this was about against her maintaining her lifestyle, it was clear her lifestyle won.

“He will get to go to his school and you won’t interfere with that. I will take him to get his school supplies then return him here till the start of term, when you will see him to the station. While he is here he is to be fed and have a room and be left alone. He will remain at school till the summers, which will be the only times you have to see to his care till he’s of age and may choose to leave. No more cupboard. No more beatings. No more any of that. I shall be checking up on his well-being while he is here and I will certainly see your actions are punished should you step out of line. Do I make myself clear?”

Uncle Vernon gnashed his teeth. He was breathing heavy and his face was red but at last he spoke.

“Fine.” He spat the word. “But he’s not to do any of that - that nonsense here!”

“Done. You leave him and his things be, and I’ll see it that things are as normal as they can get for you.” Miss Prills pulled out a business card and held it out. “This is my contact information if you have any issues of that sort with him.”

Aunt Petunia took it grudgingly.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will be taking him to get his things. By the time I return with him, he had better have a proper room.”

Miss Prills headed for the door and immediately Harry backed away from it. Still, she obviously knew he was listening as she smiled and gave him a wink as it opened and she saw him.

Today was turning out to be one of the strangest birthdays ever.


	3. A Hug and a History Lesson

Harry followed along with Miss Prills out of the house, sort of in a daze. When he’d been younger he’d hoped for a long lost relative to come and take him away from this, and he’d always thought strangers had recognized him, but having a stranger actually show up and lay out the Dursleys for how they treated him was all…very hard to believe. Yet here he was, following this strange little woman out of the Dursley’s house.

“I’m sorry this is all so sudden, Harry. You probably have a lot of questions.” she gave him a smile as they headed down Privet Drive to where a very sensible little blue car was parked.

“Er - yes. What’s going on?” he finally said. Hurriedly, he added, “I mean, I know the Dursleys are in trouble and this has to do with me going to school but I didn’t think Stonewall High really-”

Miss Prills stopped and gave a soft little laugh, turning to pat his shoulder, “You’re right, that’s very confusing. I think it might help if I gave you your letter.” she handed him an envelope with green ink and a very official seal.

He stared at the letter, which had been addressed to him in his cupboard, and held it to his chest like it was precious. No one had ever written to him before either. He held the envelope out again to just read over his name on it over and over again, just to be sure.

Miss Prills opened the passenger’s side door and gave Harry a little nudge. “You can read it in the car. I have a few things to tell you while we drive.”

Harry, who’d never been allowed to sit in the front seat of a car, always squished in the back with Dudley, climbed in quickly before Miss Prills changed her mind or something. He buckled up and held his letter tightly, looking around her car in awe. It was clean but didn’t feel as new and obsessively kept like the Dursleys’ car, and Miss Prills certainly didn’t seem like she thought Harry would damage her vehicle just by his presence. Instead, she just got in the driver’s side, made sure his buckle was done before she did her own, and started driving.

After a few moments, Harry dared ask a question, very hesitantly as the Dursleys really didn’t want him to ask questions ever. “Where are we going?”

“We need to meet up with a friend of mine and head to London - he’s going to take you to buy your things for school.” Miss Prills at the very least, didn’t snap at him for asking.

“Oh. Why?” he rather wondered why her friend would want to take him shopping at all, let alone why people were bothering for him.

Miss Prills sighed softly, “To tell you the truth, because he’s supposed to have been the one picking you up to begin with, but I felt it unwise to let him. He’s a very caring person and he’s got a temper when it comes to certain matters, particularly how people he cares for are treated. And I rather think if he’d had to get you from the Dursleys, things would have gone very…badly.”

He was growing bolder and his curiosity was piqued now, “But why me? What’s so special about me? I’m just-”

Miss Prills, who had stopped at a light, glanced to him, “Harry, no one should ever be in a home like that or treated the way you were. But not everyone has the power to change that, and unfortunately, there really are special circumstances that required you staying with the Dursleys, whether I agree with that or not. But now that you’re eleven, some of those circumstances are changing.”

It didn’t fully answer his question, but the light had changed so she had to focus on driving again. Harry sat back against his seat, watching the road pass. This car never seemed to get stopped in traffic jams or follow proper streets all of the time. He once thought they were squeezing between cars, but that couldn’t be the case, could it?

It wasn’t till they made it out onto an empty road again that Miss Prills returned to what she was saying, “You’re wrong, by the way. You aren’t just anybody, and there is something special about you.”

Harry blinked. “Really?”

“Yes. It has to do with you, and your parents, and well…a lot of things.” Miss Prills kept her eyes on the road but seemed to at least be set on what she was talking about. “What did the Dursleys tell you about your parents?”

He looked at his lap. “Not much. They said they were weirdos and that they died in a car crash. I don’t really remember it though. I was a baby.”

“You don’t remember it because there wasn’t a car crash.” Miss Prills told him. Seemingly changing the subject, “Have you ever had strange things happen to you? Inexplicable things when you were upset or angry? Things that logically shouldn’t be able to happen? Probably things your Aunt and Uncle punished you for, even for seemingly no reason?”

Harry thought back to all sorts of things the Dursleys had inexplicably blamed on him.

Miss Prills smiled over at him, “I heard a few tales when I was looking into your situation. Something about setting a python free at the zoo, things about climbing school buildings and turning a teacher’s wig blue somehow?” she brought those stories up with an almost singsong tone.

Harry blushed, “I didn’t - I didn’t mean to do any of those things, and how could I have done them anyway?”

“Because you’re a wizard.”

Harry froze and turned to her with wide eyes, but Miss Prills had her eyes on the road again. “I’m a - a what?”

“A wizard. It’s a term for people who can do magic a particular way.” this information seemed so normal to her, and suddenly the fact the car they were in seemed to be able to just pass over ditches as if they weren’t there or squeeze between buildings almost made sense.

“Are you a wizard too?”

“Actually, I’m a witch, but it’s ostensibly the same thing. Different term, same thing.” Miss Prills was watching for signs now and looking at something as they drove.

Harry was silent, pondering, till at last he thought of another question. “Does that mean- you said this involved my parents too. Were they?”

“Yes. Your parents were a witch and a wizard. It’s why your Aunt and Uncle call them ‘weirdos’ and dislike them so much.” Miss Prills pursed her lips, though it looked less lipless and tight when she did it than when Aunt Petunia did. “The Dursleys are what we call ‘muggles’. They’re non-magic folk. Generally, muggles aren’t supposed to know about the wizarding world, but those who do, for whatever reason, have various reactions. Your mother’s family was entirely muggles and while her parents were pleased, I understand, your Aunt clearly was not.”

“Is that what Uncle Vernon meant, when he said they wanted to-when he said they were going to ‘stamp it out’ of me?” he had wondered what ‘it’ had been referring to.

“Essentially. They had some ludicrous idea about trying to mistreat you into not being what you are, which is awful to do to someone for any reason, but also just not how the world works. Unfortunately that’s just the kind of people they are - don’t like anything different.” Miss Prills seemed to have spotted where she wanted to go because she took a turn down a bend towards what looked like an inn.

Harry glanced at his letter again, “So this is…?”

“Well, open it and find out. You’ve waited long enough, haven’t you?” Miss Prills smiled again.

Feeling like he now had permission and with the tantalizing idea of just what could be in this letter, Harry finally tore into it. Inside he found two pieces of parchment and read out the first, a letter, the second being a list.

“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Harry read aloud, just going over the name of it even in awe. He looked over the letter, mouth agape, but then he stopped. “What does it mean they await my owl?”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. That means they’re awaiting your response to say if you’re attending or not - wizards send post by Owl. I sent yours this morning.” she gave a knowing smile, “I was rather confident I’d be able to get the Dursleys to let me take you, and I was right.”

Harry smiled back and turned back to his letter. That sounded unbelievable and yet wonderful - owls delivering post? What next. He scanned over the parchment again, taking in this whole amazing situation. It was so strange but he couldn’t help but want it to be real, and every time he read that letter it made it feel more so. He was still reading and rereading it when Miss Prills parked the car.

“And here’s Hagrid.” she said excitedly. “Come on Harry, I’ll introduce you. I have to adjust the back of the car after anyway, and he’s going to be eager to see you.”

Harry looked up from the letter to see the inn before him and what he’d thought was just a shadow on the building was actually a massive man. He was huge and hairy, in a thick moleskin overcoat and looking that way eagerly.

Miss Prills went over to let Harry out, walking him over towards this man, waving towards him. “Hello Hagrid.”

“Oy, Gwen, issat him?” this giant of a man seemed to barely be containing his excitement.

“Its him.” she agreed, stepping up close to him. “Harry Potter, meet Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.”

Hagrid’s beetle black eyes, barely visible in his mass of hair and beard, were crinkled up into a fond smile as he looked at Harry. “Las’ time I saw you, you was only a baby.” he was almost choked up saying it, “Yeh look a lot like your dad, but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”

“Did you know my mum and dad?” Harry stared up at Hagrid. It was hard to be frightened of him, even with his size, because Hagrid just seemed so genuinely happy just to see him, and there was something kind in his eyes and the way he spoke that made him easy to trust. And Harry so wanted to trust him, and wanted to trust someone had known his parents and actually liked them.

“‘Course I knew yer parents. Knew em when they were at Hogwarts, and after.” Hagrid said. “Anyway, Harry, a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here too - Don’t worry, Gwenny, I didn’t sit on it, I promise.” he’d caught a slightly worried look on Miss Prills’ face.

From his massive overcoat, Hagrid drew a box. It wasn’t in perfect condition, the edges were a little wrinkled but it was otherwise new looking. Harry took the box and opened it, finding inside a birthday cake. It was chocolate covered with green iced lettering, and he could feel his eyes welling up a bit. Today was definitely one of the strangest birthdays he’d ever had, but one of the nicest too.

Miss Prills quickly took the box from him, her other hand steadying his shoulder. “Here, I’ll hold that for you.” she said and stepped back so Harry could run forward and give Hagrid a hug.

Hagrid was massive and he leaned down to hug Harry with big arms and scratchy whiskers and for a moment, Harry almost remembered a dream he’d had of a whiskery kiss on his head after flying on a motorbike. It was one of the first real hugs he’d ever had, and one of the warmest and nicest feelings ever.

Miss Prills gave Harry back his cake after the hug, a reassurance that yes, it was still his, and went to go adjust something in the back of her car. Hagrid looked down at him with that same sort of fond smile.

“All ready for yer school shopping, Harry? Excited to go to Hogwarts?” he was absolutely beaming.

“I don’t know.” Harry admitted, “I’ve only just heard of it.”

Hagrid looked shocked, looking up to Miss Prills and gaping. “Only just? Blimey.”

“I’m sorry, Hagrid, I really did only just get to telling him about things. I only got to start on the drive over here, I needed to deal with the muggles before that.” Miss Prills returned ot them. “I adjusted the back, it should be ok for you now.”

“You mean he doesn’t know nothin’ about anything?” Hagrid sounded shocked,

Harry was looking a little put off by that but Miss Prills responded first. It seemed she at least caught where his train of thought was going.

“He knows things, just more mundane eleven year old things, Hagrid. Just like most students raised by muggles.” she said gently, holding the door for the car for Hagrid to get in.

It seemed absurd to watch this giant try to squeeze himself into Miss Prills’ tiny car but somehow, not only did he manage, he seemed to fit just fine in the back seat like it was normal. She let Harry back in next, helping get sat down again and letting him hold his cake box in his lap again once he was buckled.

“But yer saying he doesn’t-none of it?” Hagrid took a heavy breath and seemed upset. “When yeh said I wouldn’t like how things were - did they really tell him nothing about our world?”

Miss Prills took her seat in the front and glanced back to Hagrid. “Unfortunately, they are exceptionally against our sort, and they’re very unkind people in general. Its why I insisted I go get him. They didn’t tell him about anything, not even about his parents, and were rather against him learning of it.” she gave a smile across at Harry then, “Anyway, Harry’s been taking things well so far, haven’t you, Harry?”

Harry smiled back. He liked not feeling like he was unwanted or his questions unwelcome.

Hagrid still seemed flabbergasted by what he was learning, and it was starting to become clear what Miss Prills had meant about how much the Dursleys would upset him. “Not even about his parents? But they’re famous! He’s famous!”

Miss Prills shot the briefest looks back at Hagrid before returning her eyes to the road again. “Not to muggles, they aren’t. And his Aunt and Uncle would probably prefer to keep it that way.” she made a briefly disgusted face then shook her head.

“Wait - they were famous? For what?” Harry looked to Miss Prills, and back at Hagrid. At least Hagrid was so big it wasn’t hard to see them both at once.

Burying his face in his hands, Hagrid shook his head. “He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.”

“Well that’s why we’ve got to tell him.” Miss Prills assured him. She glanced over at Harry out of the corner of her eye and gave Hagrid time to get his bearings. “Harry, we’re not going to be able to tell you everything - some of it, most people don’t even know - but we’ll tell you what we do. About what happened, about why you and your family are famous, and about what happened to your parents.”

This really didn’t feel like a discussion one usually had in a small blue car, with a giant stuffed in the back and a cake in his lap, driving through areas at a that it didn’t quite make sense to be driving between. And yet here he was, in this surreal situation, learning about why he was famous for something he couldn’t even remember, from two of the first people who’d been genuinely kind to him in a long time. Being a wizard was already very strange. He looked to Miss Prills, eagerly awaiting the story.

“It starts about twenty years ago with a wizard. Everyone in our World knows his name, but no one dares even speak it.” Miss Prills explained.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s terrifying. People are still scared of him, even now, and of what he could do. My mother said there used to be rumors if you said his name, he’d know you were listening even.” Miss Prills shook her head. “He was an absolutely evil wizard.”

Hagrid nodded, “He was as bad as you can go. Worse. Worse than worse.”

Harry looked at them both, “What was his name then?” he asked.

The two exchanged a brief look and Miss Prills pulled over to the side of the road to turn fully to Harry. He almost expected her to yell at him.

“Sorry, I don’t want to get jittery if one of us says it and swerve.” she told him then took a deep breath. “Ok, Harry, I am going to say this exactly once, then we’d rather not repeat it, ok?”

Hagrid braced himself in the back of the car, and Harry looked at her, eyes wide and eager.

“His name was Voldemort.” she shuddered immediately, and looked like she’d swallowed a particularly gross bug.

After a moment to calm herself, Miss Prills turned back and took them back onto the road. “Anyway, so this guy, You-Know- Who, twenty years ago he started trying to get power, and he was getting tons of it. He was also looking for followers, and well-”

“He got ‘em.” Hagrid finished, “Some were afraid, some wanted a bit o’ his power-”

“And some were even bewitched. It was a really horrible time.” Miss Prills continued. “He was trying to take over, do all sorts of awful things, nobody knew who to trust and most places weren’t safe. The only place a lot of people felt could ever be safe from him was Hogwarts.”

“Why Hogwarts?” Harry blinked. Seemed strange for a school to scare off a terrifying dark wizard.

“Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of.” Hagrid answered. There was a bit of fear but also a bit of pride there. “Great man, Dumbledore.”

“Your parents were pretty good wizards - they were the Head Boy and Girl back when we were at Hogwarts, actually.” Miss Prills gave a fond smile, “They were also very good people. Very close to Dumbledore and very against You-Know- Who and anything to do with the dark side.”

She looked like she was considering an awkward statement, which was funny to see from the side. “Essentially, no one actually knows why he decided to do what he did, in the end. But Halloween night, ten years ago, You-Know-Who showed up at your family’s home and-”

The sentence was cut off by Hagrid pulling out a large spotted handkerchief and blowing his nose, which sounded like a foghorn.

Miss Prills spoke low, to give him a moment. “That night, You-Know-Who killed your parents. It was very tragic, as they were wonderful people-”

“Nicer people yeh couldn’t find,” Hagrid agreed, clearly still very misty-eyed.

MIss Prills just nodded, keeping her eyes on the road but clearly a little down by that anyway, “It was extremely tragic.” she agreed.

“So…what happened after that?” Harry looked at her, a little worried about where this was going. Why did this make him and his family famous? For them dying?

Miss Prills gave another brief glance over and then said, “Because after he went for your parents, evil guy that he was, he went for you next. But for whatever reason, he couldn’t kill you. He’d killed many amazing witches and wizards, mercilessly, easily. And somehow, a one year old managed to stop him, and survive what had killed all these others with only a scar. That night is also when You-Know-Who vanished.”

Harry reached up and felt his scar, looking bewildered. He was remembering something he hadn’t before, a high, cold, cruel laugh that went along with the blinding flash of green he’d seen before in his dreams.

“That’s why you’re famous.” Miss Prills said firmly, “Only a baby and you survived what killed your parents, destroyed your house, and did the same to so many others. You survived, and you seemingly took him down in the process. No one’s sure if he died that night or what.”

“Codswallop.” Hagrid now said, “Don’t think he had enough human left in him to die.”

Miss Prills sniffed in agreement, “Well whatever it was, he was gone. He may still be out there, but starting then, the reign of terror he’d had was over, and people who’d been following him came back to our side. Some waking up out of trances, others…because they realized the times were changing and they just didn’t want to face it. And times did change - You-Know-Who was gone, and for the first time in forever we were free…and it was all because of you. Whatever happened, something about you stopped him and now you’re famous.”

Harry sank back in his seat, looking down at the box in his lap and the letter he was still holding. This still all felt surreal but now there was bad along with the dreamy good parts. And despite what they were saying, and what Miss Prills presented about him having magic, he still felt out of place and like he wouldn’t be able to do this.

She gave Harry a soft, sympathetic glance, “It’s going to be a little weird for a while.” She took a hand off the wheel for just a moment to reach out and touch his shoulder, then went back to driving.

With his attention on the road again and not the story, he could see they were actually starting to reach London. So fast and through such strange roads and non-roads, he hadn’t even noticed, but it really did look like they were reaching the city. Maybe that was part of what was helping him still believe that this whole magic business could be real. Something about this trip that made it all very clearly as magical as he was being told he was.

Harry looked back at his letter to distract himself, and took out the second piece of parchment from the envelope, the list of supplies. He read over it, brows furrowing at the odd and interesting stuff wizards apparently needed for school. Then another thought hit him and he looked up again.

“But - how am I to get these things? I haven’t any money, and the Dursleys won’t-”

“Your parents had a bank account, Harry. They left plenty to you, it’ll be alright.” Miss Prills assured him. “Hagrid has the key to your account even and he’ll take you to get your money out. You had something to do at Gringott’s anyway, right Hagrid?”

“Yeh, special job. Fer Dumbledore. Top secret.” he agreed, puffing out his chest proudly.

Miss Prills gave a knowing smile, “I have a few stops to make myself, actually, while you both do all that. I think you’ll have a very interesting time at the bank, Harry.”

“Wizards have banks then?”

“Just the one.~” Miss Prills hummed and let Hagrid excitedly explain to Harry all about Gringotts and the things kept there to help the goblins guard it - like dragons. He always loved to talk about his dragons, and he really was the best person to tell Harry about such things.


	4. Diagonals, Diners and Discussions

The rest of the ride was a lot more pleasant when they got onto explaining things like Gringotts or wizard money or there being a Ministry of Magic. It made driving through Muggle London and wondering how places to purchase broomsticks and wands could be found among these shops so much harder to think about and so much easier to just believe instead of thinking it might be a joke by the Dursleys. Which, it wouldn’t be anyway - they didn’t have a sense of humor.

Eventually Miss Prills stopped near a tiny little tavern, which no one on the street seemed to notice except them. “Hagrid, you go ahead and take Harry inside. I need to go park properly.”

As soon as they were out of the car, it seemed to vanish. This left Hagrid free to show Harry inside the Leaky Cauldron and then onward into Diagon Alley. Miss Prills didn’t actually turn up again till Harry and Hagrid were eating ice cream after his trip into Madam Malkin’s.

“And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?” Harry was asking Hagrid as Miss Prills was walking up to them, easily hidden behind Hagrid’s bulk.

“School houses. There’s four of em. Everyone says Hufflepuff’s a lot of duffers-”

“Excuuuuse me?” Miss Prills leaned into view then and gave Hagrid a bit of a smile. “Whaaaat’s this you’re saying, Hagrid?~” she took a seat on Harry’s other side with a bright smile. “Hello again Harry, how’s your shopping going?”

Harry gave her a weak smile over his ice cream.

Miss Prills’ eyes softened and she reached out to pat his shoulder, “Hey, what’s up? What’d I miss?”

“Ah, Harry ran into a boy from one of the worser families of wizard, tha’s all.” Hagrid told her, then gave Harry another smile. “I joke about ‘em, but Gwen here’s a right fine example of a Hufflepuff.”

“And proud of it.” Miss Prills agreed with a nod. “Absolutely nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff if that’s where you end up.”

Harry’s weak smile got a little stronger. Maybe a Hufflepuff wouldn’t be the worst thing ever, Miss Prills seemed alright enough.

“Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin,” Hagrid said darkly. “There’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin-”

“Now that’s not fair, Hagrid. All houses have their merits, and I know for a fact of at least one wizard who went bad not from Slytherin, but that’s not a road we need to go down.” Miss Prills shook her head at that. It was clearly a topic she didn’t feel needed to be brought up in front of Harry.

“Vol-, sorry, You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?” Harry asked, sort of struck by that part of the conversation.

“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid.

Miss Prills folded her arms on the table and leaned down to look at Harry better on his level. “Harry, no matter what anyone tells you, no one inherently house is better or worse than the others, ok? It’s all what you make of it and the choices you make.” she gave a soft, half smile, “Some houses have weak or bad reputations, and certain things were let to go on too long and make bad situations worse. But we’re working to change that and make Hogwarts a better place. So just do your best and you’ll be ok. Everyone has virtues and faults, and some people even suit multiple houses. But where you end up is where your strongest virtues usually lie, and what suits you best. No matter what happens though, you’re always going to have people at Hogwarts who will look out for you. People like me, people like Hagrid. It’s going to be ok.”

She gave Harry a soft ruffle of his hair and let him finish up his ice cream, giving him time to think over what he was being told.

Miss Prills tagged along with Harry and Hagrid going to get his supplies. She mostly let Harry stick close to Hagrid, smiling sometimes a little at Hagrid having to stop Harry from ogling books of curses or making silly purchases like gold cauldrons. What Miss Prills was mainly doing was noting the prices of some things in the shops and noting them down. She very often gravitated to the used or discount items for this.

“What’re you doing?” Harry asked, after noticing her doing it in several shops, this time seeing her crouched by a half price jar of certain ingredients and inspecting it.

“I’m taking notes for the Bargain Nifflers. It’s a club at Hogwarts that keeps up information on lower priced goods for less affluent wizarding families or students. They put out a newsletter to subscribers with all sorts of information. I like to keep an eye out whenever I’m shopping.” Miss Prills smiled, standing up again and putting away her notebook for now.

“Are there a lot of clubs at Hogwarts?”

“There’s a few so far. There’s always new ones cropping up or closing as students experiment with things. Having more clubs available has really only been a thing we’ve been pushing for in the last few years.” Miss Prills explained.

“Always used to be some now and then, but never so many as there are now.” Hagrid agreed with a big smile, “All sorts going on at Hogwarts these days.”

Miss Prills gave a soft chuckle and shook her head. “Anyway, have you finished getting your things here? Let’s get on if you have.”

Outside the store, they split again, Hagrid taking Harry to go get his birthday present and his wand, and Miss Prills getting back to checking some of the other local shops for discounts for her notes. She didn’t meet up with them again till they were outside of Ollivander’s.

“Hagrid, do you want to come along when I drive Harry back?” she offered.

“I have to be gettin back soon, but if yeh don’t mind, I was thinking we could stop for a bite to eat before he has to head back.”

“I think that sounds like a good plan, how about you, Harry?” Miss Prills could obviously tell he had a lot on his mind, just from the way she put a steadying hand on his shoulder, but she didn’t inquire further just yet.

The three headed back through Diagon Alley, back through the hole and the wall and through the Leaky Cauldron to the streets of London again. Miss Prills went ahead to fetch her car, which she had to fiddle with again to get it to accommodate Hagrid with Harry’s new owl’s cage on his lap, as well as putting his trunk in the very back.

The ride to a little out of the way diner was mostly silent, other than Miss Prills asking what sort of food they wanted before they left. It gave Harry time to stare out of the window and think about his day, and everything weighing on his mind. It’d been a very big day. He didn’t really realize till they were settling into some odd seats at the diner that it wasn’t a normal muggle one - not that he’d been to many of those, the Dursleys weren’t that fond of them - but one that was seating all sorts of odd folk. It had the same variety of customers as the leaky cauldron had, just with more bright lights and cheery atmosphere, a more normal in some ways. It felt like another subtle hint that the wizarding world was normal in its own ways too and he could fit in just fine there.

“You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet.” Hagrid asked him as they waited for their food.

He’d had all car ride to figure out how to say what he was thinking, and it was still hard, but he’d sort of known this kind of question was coming. “Everyone thinks I’m special. All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander…but I don’t know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I’m famous and I can’t even remember what I’m famous for. I don’t know what happened when Vol-, sorry – I mean the night my parents died.”

Miss Prills and Hagrid exchanged a look. She put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, and Hagrid leaned across the table to speak, his smile very kind and his eyes warm.

“Don’ you worry, Harry. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine, just be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts – I did – still do, ‘smatter of fact.”

“A lot of people have opinions about you, expecting things from you both good and bad. But the only important thing is that you do your best to be the best you possible. That’s all you can ever be.” Miss Prills agreed. “In time, people are going to see you for you. Just be patient and give it your all. Its all any of us can do.”

They left Hagrid after their meal and Harry watched him out of the car window as they drove away, but he vanished. He glanced over to Miss Prills and dared ask an idle question he sometimes wondered.

“I used to meet people on the street who seemed to know me, but they always seemed to vanish when I looked again. Is that just a wizard thing?”

“Yes - well, it’s bits of various wizard things. We have ways of making ourselves unnoticed by muggles in general, so if you saw people out and about, they could have easily been slipping into other spaces. But the more likely case is some of them were Disapparating.”

“Doing what?” Harry turned to stare at her fully.

Miss Prills chuckled. “Apparition and Disapparation - appearing and disappearing? It’s like how people teleport on cartoon shows?”

“You can actually do that?” Harry gaped. He’d only seen that on television once or twice when Dudley was watching it or playing a game or something. It was one of those things the Dursleys didn’t like him talking about or looking at, but otherwise didn’t think much of.

“Yes, but it’s very difficult magic and can go very wrong if not done properly. Don’t think too long about it or you’ll lose your lunch, and you’ve had enough to think about today. Just, leave it as a standard thing for some wizards, but complicated, difficult, and requires a license.”

“Is that why you drive?” he asked looking back at the road again.

“Well, yes and no. It’s hard enough to Apparate one person, let alone multiple people, and it’s extremely dangerous, especially on someone so young. It’s why there’s alternate methods to get around for younger people - anyway, there’s also places you just can’t Apparate into, like Hogwarts. That’s why you’ll be taking the train.”

Harry thought about that and sort of stared out the window for a little while longer before another thought struck him and he looked back to Miss Prills.

“Hagrid’s the groundskeeper at Hogwarts, but you never said what you do there.”

Miss Prills’ brown eyes met his briefly and she smiled, attention back on the road in an instant, “I do a bit of everything, really. Essentially, my main job is making sure Hogwarts is the best it can be for its students. I’m there if someone needs to talk, or needs help with something, and I’m there to make sure you’re all treated right by the staff.”

When they reached Privet Drive, Miss Prills handed Harry an envelope with his ticket then helped him unload all of his stuff and take it up to the front. “Your train’s on the first of September from King’s Cross, and I’ll make sure your Aunt and Uncle take you, ok?”

Harry nodded, quietly.

“If you need anything, send your owl here for myself or Hagrid. She’ll be able to find us.” she assured him, then leaned down to give Harry a quick hug and make sure he got inside ok. She stayed just long enough to make sure the Dursleys pointed him to his new bedroom - the one that had formerly been for Dudley’s unwanted things - instead of the cupboard, and gave them one last warning smile before she headed back to her car and vanished into the night.

Harry went to sleep in his new room that night, just taking in all that had happened that day, and wondering what would come when he finally went on to Hogwarts.


	5. A Different Sort of Test

Harry didn’t see Miss Prills again till he arrived at Hogwarts, being led to the front doors by Hagrid with the other first years. She was standing behind a much taller black-haired witch with a stern face and green robes that made Miss Prills’ short stature, pudgy rosy cheeks and warm smile stand out all the more. If Miss Prills had looked like someone not to cross when she was dealing with the Dursleys, this new witch was clearly an entire class above that, because she commanded respect with her very air.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid, we will take them from here.”

As the group was led into the entrance hall, Miss Prills followed the group rather than walking at the front where Professor McGonagall was leading. She was keeping an eye out for if anyone got lost in the shuffle or started getting nervous, as visible when she would sometimes reach out and lightly nudge some of the first years that were lagging behind staring at the entrance hall.

They were shown to a small empty chamber off the hall and once inside, Miss Prills went to stand beside Professor McGonagall, who began to give a proper introduction speech to the first years about the Houses and the Sorting ceremony to come.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Till then, Miss Prills is here if you have any questions or need any assistance. Please keep your volume down if you ask her anything, and wait quietly otherwise.”

After Professor McGonagall had left them, several of the first years started to talk amongst themselves, asking each other what the Sorting would be, most too unsure to directly ask Miss Prills. This made Harry feel awkward wanting to ask her directly - especially since she seemed so different out of muggle clothes. Her dark blue robes and hairstyle were looser than the crisp suit she’d worn when she visited the Dursleys but there was something about this difference of setting and manner that made him more unsure of talking to her - or maybe it was just he felt he couldn’t monopolize her time here or try to draw more attention to himself by seeming to know her before others did.

Instead, he asked Ron quietly, “How exactly do they sort us into houses?”

“Some sort of test, I think. Fred says it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

Just as that was seeming to be the consensus among the students, Hermione Granger put up her hand, looking eagerly to Miss Prills.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Miss Prills had just pulled out a small pencil like object to dab to Ron’s nose for him so he could hide that smudge on it he’d been unable to get off of it just yet.

“Can you tell us what sorts of spells we’ll need for the Sorting?”

That got a fond smile from her, “None. You don’t need anything to be sorted but yourselves. It’s not a test in that sense, I promise.”

A sigh of relief passed through the group, and another student asked quickly, without bothering to raise their hand. “What sort of test is it then?”

“I don’t want to spoil the fun for you, but I can tell you all it’s the sort of test no one can fail, because it’s about who you are inside, not about what you can do yet or what you know. So just try to relax, and you’ll be ok. No matter what, you’ll fit somewhere, even if you don’t know it yet.”

After that, a lot of the students were turning instead to just fixing their clothes and chattering quietly about what she might mean by that, when they were interrupted by the arrival of a group of ghosts, flying through a wall in the middle of a discussion of some sort. They took a few moments to notice the first years, but after the they were eager to talk to them with excitement about the ceremony or what house they might get in, till Professor McGonagall came to shoo the ghosts off.

“Now form a line,” Professor McGonagall told them, “and follow me.”

The last thing Harry heard after he was in line was Miss Prills quietly speaking to Neville further in the back. “Here, I can hold your toad for you so you don’t lose him during the ceremony or dinner, ok?” she offered, which he eagerly accepted, handing over Trevor, who had been squirming to get away already.

Going into the Great Hall, at least knowing the Sorting was something he couldn’t fail was a relief. He kept trying to mentally repeat what Miss Prills said - no matter what, he’d fit somewhere, even if he didn’t know it yet. He was at least briefly distracted staring in wonder at the grandeur of the Great Hall and of its enchantment to match the sky, but was brought back to things by the the stool being set down by Professor McGonagall and a hat being placed upon it.

When the Hat sang its song, Harry started getting a better idea of what was meant by a different sort of test. Now more than ever he understood why she’d emphasized that even if you didn’t know it, you’d fit somewhere. Because he certainly didn’t feel brave or quick-witted or anything besides queasy and unsure. She’d told him in Diagon Alley that no matter what, he’d end up where he was best suited as well, hadn’t she? He still had the fear that where he was best suited wasn’t here, but he tried to shove that off.

His turn to try the Hat came at long last, and he still hoped and wished not to be in Slytherin - because no matter if that house had some good points or not, it didn’t appeal to him at all - and when he was declared a Gryffindor, he felt waves of relief wash over him. He wasn’t paying attention to just how loud the cheering was, not to Percy the Prefect hopping up to shake his hand vigorously, or the Weasley twins chanting about getting him in their house. He just sat down with a relieved smile on his face, just so happy to have gotten through it. He fit somewhere. He’d fit here. He had to trust that, and it seemed all right. He grinned to Hagrid when he caught his eye and got a thumbs up, just so happy and relieved to still be here He was even more relieved when Ron joined him too, since that meant he had something of a friend in his House already.

After dinner, Harry was looking up at the High Table and smiling in amusement at seeing Trevor the Toad seated on Miss Prills’ shoulder still as she talked to a shorter professor beside her. He smiled a bit at that, and continued looking along the table. His mood was hit fiercely when the hook-nosed teacher talking to Professor Quirrell gave him such a look, past Quirrell’s turban, and a sharp hot pain shot through his scar, causing him to clap his hand over it and recoil a bit.

When Harry managed to shake off that awful feeling of dislike he got from that Professor, he looked up again and caught Miss Prills glancing between that teacher and back at him, eyes narrowed and concern visible on her features. He caught her eye briefly and shook his head with a weak smile and she stared at him hard for a moment but didn’t push it, going back to her conversation. Harry tried to settle and went to asking Percy Weasley about that professor - a Professor Snape, who didn’t give Harry another glance for the rest of the night.

With the desserts gone as well, Professor Dumbledore got to his feet to address the school properly - since his very minor set of words at the beginning of the feast certainly hadn’t been a speech.

“Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.”

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older pupils will do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.”

“Lessons to prepare for the Flying Certification exam will begin the second week of term, and Quidditch trials will be starting for any who have already passed it on the fourth week. Anyone interested taking their exam or trying out should contact Madam Hooch.”

“Another note for first years, and reminder for older students, is that those who wish to form Student Clubs, are seeking assistance in classes, need help adjusting to life at Hogwarts, or just need someone to talk to, should seek Miss Prills for assistance. Student clubs and activities will be holding fairs the first three weekends of term to recruit members and start forming, so be aware of this.”

“And finally, I must tell you all that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.” That last part got a few laughs from students who didn’t realize he was serious, but the mood was quickly brought back into the ‘strange’ territory by what Dumbledore ended up saying after. “And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!”

Harry noticed most of the teachers’ smiles became rather fixed, but for the first time, he saw Miss Prills visibly biting her lip and beaming, and he saw why soon enough. She sang along with the students to the school song, everyone picking their own tune. Her’s, even if he couldn’t hear it over other students’, was clearly very merry but interrupted quite heavily with her giggling profusely and having to hide her hands at it. Whether it was the song itself or things like the Weasley twins finishing it to the tune of a slow funeral dirge that was getting her, it didn’t matter because she was clearly thoroughly amused with this whole business, and that sort of amusement was a bit infectious to not just him but several other students.

That was was a mostly mirthful end to a rather eventful evening that had been a rollercoaster of emotions. When Harry went up to bed, he found himself falling asleep thinking of not just the delicious treacle tart he’d had, but musing about what sorts of clubs one might find at a wizarding school. If not for a horrible dream he later forgot, it’d have been a pretty great night.


	6. Versus the Potions Master

Harry’s first week at Hogwarts, and he was finding it helpful to keep his eyes out for purple and gold in the halls. Sometimes things at Hogwarts seemed to move around a bit, like the paintings going to visit each other, or a staircase that was in the same spot but led somewhere different on Fridays, and there were also doors that had very specialized ways to be dealt with. With so many places to go and classes to learn the way to, it was really easy to get lost - especially with so many people trying to gawk at him on his way around, so it was important to have a system, and thankfully, it seemed one had been provided if you paid attention.

All new students had woken up after the first night to a small packet of parchment on top of their things - Neville had found Trevor sitting on his. This packet that included a basic map of the school, a list of rules and reminders, and just helpful Hogwarts tips, all in neat print and dark purple ink with gold accents for important points. That same purple and gold ink style was used on signs put up all around the building, that gave very plain and clear directions like ‘Transfirguration classes down this hall’ or ‘Bathrooms here’.

Harry and Ron had very nearly ended up on the wrong side of the head caretaker, Filch, because they’d almost tried to go into a door they didn’t recognize, till Harry spotted the sign pointing to where they were actually trying to go. Filch had given them a hard stare as they’d headed that direction, but just checked the sign was moved a little closer to the door so it was more visible and grumbled about the whole business. It was a good thing too, as they had realized later that was the forbidden third floor corridor they’d almost tried to enter.

Filch was a surly, grumbly sort of man who was getting on in years but older students told tales of when he’d been far worse. Ron had heard stories from Bill and Charlie - and even occasionally Percy - about how Filch and his beloved cat, Mrs. Norris, had managed the whole castle on their own and he’d been near tyrannical about it. It wasn’t until recent years that that had changed. Among many other things at Hogwarts being revamped, seeing that more people helped in the caretaking had been one of the major changes. The dark tales of Filch just suddenly popping out of secret passageways to punish someone for literally any possible infraction, were rather terrifying still and most students were rather grateful for that change. It made life outside of classes a lot less stressful to not be constantly looking over your shoulder for a spiteful old man or his cat.

The classes themselves were difficult, requiring more than just vague hand gestures and silly phrases, but he was learning to cope with that. In every class he took there was at least one person - usually a former or current student - who was working as a Teacher’s Aide to help the Professors keep class going, while also making sure students were getting the help they needed. This TA was almost always from a different house than the class or the professor, if not both.

Harry rather liked the wiry TA that helped with astronomy because she was full of little tips and tricks to help a struggling first year with recognizing what they needed to. Meanwhile, his whole class had been leery of the tall, broad Slytherin seventh year that helped them with Herbology. This opinion had quickly changed once they were used to his presence, and him stopping to answer any idle question about the plants or their uses he happened upon, whether or not it was relevant, won him a lot of favor with the young and nervous students.

One of the few classes that didn’t have an active TA was History of Magic, where it seemed Professor Binns was too set in his style to change for any reason - including his own death. So what was done instead was students were given a pamphlet and times for History of Magic alternate classes and groups if you were struggling under Professor Binns’ style. Those who were able to handle his method of teaching could remain but those who didn’t were shifted to other classes in the hopes of better. Harry and Ron were not alone in changing classes rather quickly.

Their TA for Professor Flitwick’s charms class was also a Slytherin, though she’d already graduated. She was the one to help Professor Flitwick back on his stand of books when he’d fallen off at Harry’s name. They seemed to get on quite well, joking a bit about team effort and it put the class at ease.

Professor McGonagall’s transfiguration class was one of the most technically difficult yet impressive classes. She was no nonsense about students fooling around in her class and she made them take complicated notes before even attempting to change anything. Her class notably had more than one TA needed, in this case a very friendly pair of, one a graduate Hufflepuff and one a seventh year Ravenclaw. They offered a lot more quiet advice and assistance to students or answered things they were too shy to ask the professor with. By the end of her first class, Hermione Granger may have gotten the furthest and gotten the praise and rare smile from McGonagall but plenty of the class had made progress.

Harry felt very relieved he wasn’t so completely behind or incompetent at magic as he thought. A lot of students came from Muggle families and even those who hadn’t struggled a bit. He and Ron had needed equally as much help as each other despite Ron’s headstart. Still it felt nice to feel like he could actually do these things with hard work and help. It was too bad his last class of the week was going to be his biggest hurdle.

That Friday was the first time Harry and Ron had made it to the Great Hall without having to look for signs every few moments. That was cause to celebrate and both were rather in a good mood.

“What have we got today?” Harry tried to fix up his porridge as he asked.

“Double Potions with the Slytherins.” Ron was fixing up his own as well, giving his schedule only half a glance. “Snape’s head of Slytherin house. They say he used to favor them and go after other houses for little things.”

“What happened?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Well, you know that little witch that does counseling and stuff? The one from the sorting?” Ron looked for her to point her out but didn’t spot her at the High Table.

“Miss Prills?” Harry blinked.

“Yeah. Supposedly she started working at Hogwarts in the last several years and has been making big changes ever since. They say she and Snape have it out a lot because of how he treats students.”

Hermione Granger, who’d been sitting nearby and seemed to like getting in on whatever conversation she could, spoke up. “But why would she have it out with a teacher? Surely if he works here -”

“I don’t know. Apparently she just doesn’t like how he does things and he doesn’t like her interfering.” Ron shrugged awkwardly.

Harry remembered how Miss Prills had acted about the Dursleys and gave a small smile. But the conversation continued without him.

“You’d think the Slytherins would have more of a problem with her if she had stopped their head of house favoring them. It’s probably all just rumors blown out of hand.” Hermione said in that way that made Ron lose his ability to speak properly with frustration. She continued on anyway, unbothered, “She seems to get on just fine with them from where I’m sitting.”

Harry turned around to see what she meant. Miss Prills had stopped on her walk to the High Table, standing in between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. She was engaged in an animated discussion with a few older Slytherin students, as well as a couple of the Ravenclaws.

Ron shook his head, finally regaining his voice. “I don’t know, it’s just what I heard, that they fight and he tries to favor them. We’ll be able to see if it’s true later.”

“I wish McGonagall favored us.” Harry offered, mostly as a joke. His mind was elsewhere. He remembered the way she’d looked between him and Professor Snape, and how Professor Snape had looked at him. It wasn’t hard to buy she probably take issue if he handled his classes badly but Harry really couldn’t see her being able to pull the same tactics on Professor Snape that she’d used on the Dursleys.

The arrival of the mail brought a note from Hagrid that put all thoughts of that matter out of his head. It wasn’t until Potions class that he remembered it. He had thought Professor Snape disliked him before but no, it became clear that Snape absolutely hated him.

Snape had started the class with taking role and very quickly singled him out. Calling him a celebrity to make Malfoy and them snicker, hounding him with questions he didn’t know the answer to, taking a point off Gryffindor for his “cheek” when Harry dared say he didn’t know but the student desperately raising their hand might.

Honestly, being in this class was frustrating and depressing for most of the Gryffindor students. Somewhere early on, Snape’s TA had slipped out of the room and not returned for a few moments. It was awful being stuck in a room with Snape praising Malfoy - whom he seemed fond of - while brutally criticizing and insulting everyone else. It made any idea of Snape ever being scolded or arm twisted like the Dursleys were absolutely laughable, provided the laugh was hollow and painful.

Things seemed to come to a brutal head at the expense of poor Neville Longbottom. Snape had been drawing everyone’s attention to how well Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when something went wrong with Neville and he melted Seamus’s cauldron and sent their potion dangerously spilling about. He’d yelled at poor, terrified Neville and sent him off to the hospital wing before rounding on Harry and Ron, who’d been next to Neville’s station.

“You – Potter – why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought  
he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another  
point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

Harry was angry at the unfairness of that, and hurt at being singled out. He opened his mouth to argue but the voice that rang out in the classroom was certainly not from him.

“That is quite enough, Severus.”

Into the room strode little Miss Prills, in her cheery blue robes, stepping around the mess of potion on the floor. Her expression had none of its usual cheer in it, but none of that cold collectedness from when she’d been at Privet Drive either. No, Miss Prills was visibly furious and stormed up to Snape, who didn’t seem to tower over her as easily as he did his students.

“Ah, Miss Prills, come to defend our little celebri-”

“Oh shut up. I don’t care who you’re talking to, don’t you dare address students like that and don’t go blaming them for your failures!” Miss Prills interrupted him.

Snape swelled up, trying to loom over her, “My failures? If that boy was too much of an idiot-”

“The only idiot here is the incompetent who thinks he can blame eleven year olds for what they don’t know on their first day and attempts to punish a student for not somehow predicting an entirely other student group’s mistakes. What nonsense - ‘thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong’ what on Earth are you on about? The only person here who has a fondness for that, I’m pretty sure, is you.”

Miss Prills and Professor Snape seemed locked in a glaring contest with the whole class watching in awe and a bit of fear. For his part, Harry knew his money was on to win, though he’d hardly believed it himself a few moments before.

“Silence, I will not be spoken to like that.” Snape snarled.

“You will be reprimanded for your misconduct as is needed. I’m not a student you can just try to intimidate into letting you do as you please - you’re the adult in this situation, you’re the one not keeping a clear watch on safety standards and you’re the one that is ultimately responsible for what occurred. You’re meant to be the expert here, not them, so what were you doing? I know what your Aide was doing, because she’s still over at Mr. Crabbe’s table with him but what were you doing, Severus? Because clearly whatever the expert Potions Master was doing had to be-”

“I was drawing the classes attention to how well Mr. Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs.” Snape almost seemed to be using bringing up Malfoy as a shield, something about it felt like he was realizing he’d failed to intimidate so he was trying to skirt to another tactic.

“So what you’re saying is, besides paying attention to their own potion, that they’ve never made and could go horribly wrong, and remembering your previous instructions, students were also meant to be looking at you and listening to your discussion of another student’s work? Where in that are they meant to have the time to notice someone else’s error, let alone fail to stop it for supposed attention? Especially when you, who I will reiterate, are the adult here, and the expert failed to notice or prevent it either?” She snapped back at him, taking no bait to let him off the hook.

Professor Snape seethed silently at her, maybe too enraged to speak or just thinking of his comeback but Miss Prills wouldn’t let him - she wasn’t letting up.

“Don’t try to use your students as scapegoats for your own issues, Severus. It isn’t anyone’s fault but yours if a student isn’t getting the help they need and things go awry. It’s not Mr. Longbottom’s fault he made a simple error that had drastic results that no one who should have been on watch for such a mishap caught. It’s not Mr. Potter’s fault he made that error. It’s not Mr. Malfoy’s fault you weren’t looking out for issues and instead focusing on him. Do. Not. Blame them for your error. Your points given or removed today will not count and I will contact you later about the damages and your reprimand.”

Miss Prills took a deep breath and turned on her heel. As she was walking out, she paused at Malfoy’s table and he looked like he was trying to hide his fear.

“I’m very glad your horned slugs were well stewed and I hope you continue to have success with your work. Potions can be quite difficult and I’m sure your family would be pleased you’re doing well at it so far. Perhaps in future you can be given the chance to share your skills and help other students. I’m sorry you being praised was brought up as an excuse for your professor’s behavior.” She spoke calmly and gently to Malfoy, acknowledging Snape’s praise of his work regardless of the situation.

The air in the room was strange and uncertain after that. No one seemed quite able to form an opinion yet and most of them seemed to be in shock. Even Malfoy didn’t seem able to make up his mind.

Snape seethed for a few minutes and then looked ready to snap at them to get back to work but a firm look from his TA and he just growled and motioned at the board with his wand, writing up an assignment. “That is your homework. Wilkins will check each of your potions before you leave. Class dismissed.”

Immediately he stalked off and his TA went around to look over each person’s potion and give them quiet feedback before they could pack up and leave. Wilkins stopped at Harry soon enough but kept him aside after his feedback.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop him singling you out. I’m supposed to fetch Miss Prills when he does things like that since I don’t have authority over him. If he continues to try to treat you or anyone else that way, I’ll be noting it down so it can be rectified and prevented. Are you feeling ok?”

Harry nodded, swallowing hard. “I think so. Will Neville be alright?”

“He should be. Madam Pomfrey handles these things a lot. I’m going to go check on him and see if he needs more outside help with the class though. It’s unfortunately common in this class.”

Wilkins let him leave and soon he and Ron were heading up the stairs out of the dungeons together.

“You wouldn’t think she’d have it in her, just looking.” Ron observed, “My Mum’s like that too. At least none of those points off should count! Hey, can I go with you to meet Hagrid?”

At Hagrid’s hut, Harry was still at little dazed and thoughtful about the day’s events, but at least he felt suitably cheered up. Hagrid had the kettle on and a fresh plate of small cakes sitting next to a piece of parchment in familiar purple and gold writing.

“Hagrid, what’s that?” Harry asked, biting into one of the cakes, which were warm and soft with raisins in them. They may not have been pretty - rather lumpy even - but the rock cakes were delicious.

“Oh? Tha’s a recipe, sorta.” Hagrid smiled, “I’m tryin ter improve my baking, it’s always been rather tough and my ol rock cakes were a bit stony apparently so Gwenny - tha’s Miss Prills to you - went over my recipe with me ter try an fix it up.”

“Do you know Miss Prills very well?” Ron asked, glancing to Harry.

“Since she was at Hogwarts. Used ter be much quieter, 'cept when she thought people were bein treated bad. Then years ago she through Hogwarts like a hurricane. Tore through all sorts of old things and pulled some apart, rearranged em better, or put in new ones. Whole new position got made jus fer the job she felt needed doin. Not everyone was pleased and the governors and the ministry put up a fuss but between her an’ Dumbledore they sorted it all out.”

Harry looked at the purple and gold recipe, noting some friendly and encouraging little words noted on it in places. Then it hit him why he recognized it.

“Is she the one who puts up signs everywhere? And made maps?” He asked, blinking.

Hagrid chuckled. “Nah, other people put em up - usually Filch an 'em - but she makes a lot of 'em. Has a whole team of students who help her copy and distribute 'em all over the school, and newsletters too. It’s one of the things she added. Loves her bright colors too - says it helps make things more noticeable. Keeps Filch happy not having ter redirect students an’ anythin’ keepin’ Filch in a good mood is fine by me.” Hagrid chuckled, “Now, tell me how your first week went, you two.”

Harry and Ron explained about their other classes first before working around to Potions.

“He really seemed to hate me.” Harry sighed.

“Well he hated Miss Prills worse, did you see how he glared at her?” Ron shook his head.

“Got ter see a run-in with those two, didja?” Hagrid shook his head with a smile, “They’ve never gotten on but especially not since she started here. 'E doesn’t like how she runs things an she don’t like how he acts with students.”

“She yelled at him for an accident in class. He tried to blame Harry for something and she wouldn’t have it.” Ron nodded firmly.

“I don’t know why he wanted to blame me anyway. He kept trying to take points off me for no reason. I really think he hates me but why?”

“Course he doesn’t.” But Hagrid didn’t meet his eye and quickly changed the subject to one of Ron’s brothers. In the meantime Harry took note of a Daily Prophet clipping regarding a break-in at Gringotts, remembering the vault he had gone to with Hagrid.

Getting more information on that topic had been as fruitless as getting more on why Snape hated him, and when they left Hagrid’s, pockets loaded with extra cakes for later, his mind was swimming with questions. Briefly, as they passed her office on their way through the castle, Harry considered asking Miss Prills if she had any ideas but decided she had probably had enough to do and thought better of it.


End file.
